Keep Portland Grimm
by KartheyM
Summary: A SuperGrimm sequel to "Next-Generation Grimm." Twin Grimms Brooke and Raven are on the move... but darker forces conspire against them. Brooke's Key might not be the one everyone thinks it is-and the Winchesters soon discover that a strange city like Portland may hold more surprises than they bargained for!
1. Chapter 1: Siblings

_Claws and screeching, flesh tearing... Danger... Someone screaming, "Brooke! Brooke!" A young woman doing battle, golden hair matted with dirt and blood, striking with her feet and two long knives in her hand, gleaming with the blood of monsters. A battle in the woods... The number 26... A tunnel... A mountain in the distance... The screeching, the flapping, they had almost overwhelmed her..._

At a motel in Cheyenne, Wyoming, Sam jerked awake as the last of the vision pounded through his head. He panted heavily as the urgency of the situation hit his chest like a Mack truck.

Dean snorted as the click of the keys on Sam's laptop roused him.  
"Wuzz go'n on?" he slurred sleepily.

Sam scrolled through images of mountain peaks online. "Nothing," he answered. "I just had another vision."

Dean rubbed the sleep from his eyes and rolled over. "Oh yeah? What happened this time?" He scooted over and peered over his brother's shoulder. "Mountains, huh?"

"Well, there was one in my dream, so I figured it must be a clue to the location." He scrolled through till he found the right image. "Bingo: Portland, Oregon. That's where we're going." He glanced at his brother, who stared back at him.

"That's interesting," Dean said, making no move to get dressed. "Why exactly would we go there?"

"To save a girl named Brooke from being attacked by monsters." Sam finished going through his list of clues. A highway numbered 26 ran eastward from Portland and seemed to cut through a tunnel, with woods all around it. He checked bus lines from Wyoming to Oregon and found one that stopped within a mile of the highway. "That's where we need to be."

"If there's monsters, I hope we're not too late," Dean mused, finally grabbing his pants. "How many Brookes could there be in Portland?"

* * *

Brooke watched her sister as cars whizzed past them on the highway. Brooke could not restrain a small start at each noise that came louder than the rest, but Raven never even flinched. How did she get so strong? Brooke almost envied her sister.

Raven glanced back, her deep-brown eyes glinting in the moonlight. "Let's go."

Under cover of darkness, they crept through the burgeoning overgrowth alongside a stretch of Highway 26 between Beaverton and Portland. It had been simple to hitch a ride on a truck and then leap off as traffic slowed in front of the tunnel. Traffic was always slow, and the highway was always so busy that they could be long gone before any cops arrived.

Brooke winced as a blackberry vine scraped her ankle. "How much further?" she asked Raven.

"We have to get to the bus stop on Vista Avenue," Raven answered. The bracken didn't seem to bother her.

"And that's where we're going to find the guy that will introduce us to the Grimm in Portland?"  
Brooke was engaged in navigating a tree root and did not see the nervous blinking her suggestion prompted in her sister.

"Yes," Raven answered evenly.

"Oh good." Brooke fiddled with the clasp on her backpack straps. Even though Raven was a Grimm as well, Brooke wanted to wait a bit longer before telling her about the key hanging around her neck.

Raven led her to a small clearing under a thick canopy of trees. Something was wrong.  
"Rave-"  
"Shh!" Both sisters held absolutely still.

A twig snapped in the deep shadows. Brooke drew a machete, while Raven slipped twin knives out of their sheaths on either hip.  
"Come out where we can see you, coward!" Raven screamed.

Slowly, the footsteps advanced-but there emerged from the shadows not one but three tall men. They leered darkly at the girls. As they closed in, Brooke heard Raven sniff.  
"Jaegerbar," she whispered.

"Well, well, well," Cackled the man on the left. "What have we here? Two little girls, lost in the woods!"

Brooke stiffened bravely. "We're not lost!" she snapped, even as Raven squeezed her hand in warning.

"Of course you aren't," said the man in the middle. "We found you right where she said you'd be."

"What does she want?" Raven demanded.

"_She_?" Brooke looked from the menacing Jaegerbar to her sister. "Who are they talking about?"

Two Geiers appeared in the branches overhead, and a squad of Hundjaeger moved in behind the girls, trapping them. One of the Hundjaeger asserted himself.  
"Thank you for locating the packages, your services are no longer required," he told the Jaegerbar.

Brooke couldn't resist as a Hundjaeger grabbed the arm holding the machete and woged, but Raven grabbed her free hand and growled, "We aren't going anywhere!"

The head Hundjaeger turned his glittering eyes on her. "It was not a request," he said.

Brooke screamed as the Hundjaeger holding her arm suddenly twisted it, forcing her to drop the machete.

"NO!" Raven screamed, and swung her knife into the nearest Hundjaeger's face. He dodged, but the savage blade sunk into his shoulder. "Brooke!"

The Hundjaeger holding Brooke wrapped an arm around her neck. She writhed as hard as he could, but he dragged her backwards. Raven fought like a madwoman, slashing, stabbbing, and kicking as the burly men gathered around her.  
"Brooke!" she screamed again.

The Hundjaeger carrying Brooke stopped as a man in a dark trenchcoat stepped out of the shadows.

"Give her to me," he said softly.

The Hundjaeger growled and gripped Brooke tighter, threatening to snap her neck or choke her to death.

"I said," repeated the man, reaching for the Hundjaeger's face, _"Give. Her. To. Me."_

The Hundjaeger howled in pain at the man's touch, and Brooke gasped as his grip slacked. The Hundjaeger collapsed beside her, and the man turned his attention to her.

"No!" Brooke shrieked, scrambling to her feet. She began moving before she had fully centered her balance, and crashed face-first into a tree. Clearing her vision, she stumbled back through the woods. A road! She had to reach a road!

"Wait!" the man called to her, but Brooke had seen how dangerous he was. She kept running-

Right into the waiting arms of the third Jaegerbar. He had several gashes around his arms and a split lip, but he still grinned as Brooke struggled in his grasp.

"Well, lookee here," he gurgled. "Rumor has it you've got something for me, sweetheart."

"No!" Brooke's voice cracked with terror. She freed one shoulder and aimed a frantic punch at the man's groin. He roared in pain and released her. Brooke charged at him and knocked him over. Where was Raven?

"You little witch!" he snarled at her. Brooke heard the snick of a knife. Night had fallen, and she could hardly see. Something sliced her leg, and she turned, but the Jaegerbar was still out of reach. Brooke looked down. She could just make out a tree branch with her blood on it. She stumbled onward-

Only to find the Jaegerbar waiting for her.

"I'll make you pay for that!" he had the knife in his hand, and he swung at her face. "Give it to me!"

Brooke raised her arms and felt the searing pain as the blade sliced into them. "No! I swear don't have anything!"

His eyes were dead-black as he gripped her throat and stared at her. "You're lying; _do you know what happens to liars_?"

Suddenly, he threw back his head and unleashed a long, loud scream as beams of light exploded from his eyes and mouth. Brooke screamed too. The Jaegerbar collapsed, just as the Hundjaeger did, and there was the man in the dark coat again! Brooke was petrified now. All she could do was cower on the ground, whimpering softly.

The man studied her with gentle eyes for a moment.

"Have no fear," he said, softly caressing her cheek. "You will be safe."

Her world went black, and Brooke sank into unconsciousness.

* * *

Nick jerked awake in bed. All of his senses were on high alert. What was it? Nick tensed and held his breath. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted.

Someone was in the house.

Carefully, without disturbing Juliette, Nick slipped out of bed and crept out into the hall. The merest sliver of a shoulder and arm showed up against the straight line of the wall leading to the stairs. In two strides, Nick was at the corner. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed the shoulder.

A sharp pain erupted in his wrist where Trubel twisted around and punched it. He saw the next blow coming and stopped her.

"What the heck?" she hissed at him.

"What are you doing?" Nick asked.

Trubel nodded toward the stairs. "Somebody-"

"Downstairs, I know," Nick finished. "I'll take care of it."

"But I-"

"Trubel," he cut her off. "My house; I'll take care of it. Go back to your room."

Trubel rolled her eyes. "Call me if you need anything."

Nick waited till she closed her door before taking the stairs one at a time. His ears strained for any kind of noise of movement outside his own. He stopped halfway down when he realized the thing that was wrong: there wasn't any noise at all. Not any of the wall clocks, not the hum of the computer-nothing. Frowning, he reached the dining room at the bottom of the stairs. His gun was in the box on the cabinet across the walkway to his right. He stepped toward it.  
The lamp switched on and Nick braced for action.

A man in a dark trenchcoat stood next to the couch, standing over the beaten form of a girl sprawled on the couch. Nick instinctively knew there was no way this guy could have gotten into the house.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked, staring at the man.

"A messenger," the man answered.

"For what?" Nick asked.

"For her sake," he gestured to the girl. "She is yours to protect now, until two brothers come to receive her."

"But why-"

"Do you accept?" the man fixed such a piercing gaze on Nick that he wondered why the man didn't woge.

Nick glanced at the girl. Blood pooled around her nose and seeped out of her mouth; she had a purple lump forming under one eye. She was so thin that the deep gashes on her arms looked like they might expose bone. Whatever nearly killed her would not hesitate to try again. He wondered if this man had actually killed her attacker, or merely brought her here.

"Yes," he said, "I'll do it."

The man turned, took a single step, and the light went out. When Nick turned the lamp on again, the man was gone, and the girl remained.

"Who is that?"

Nick flinched as Trubel spoke from behind him. He didn't take his eyes off the girl. "I don't know," he said. "But I just agreed to protect her."

"Why would you do that?"

Nick began inspecting the girl's condition, feeling for a pulse on her neck.  
"It just felt like the right thing to do," he answered Trubel.

"What if you're protecting her for the bad guys?" Trubel asked, glancing over the ratty shoes and the torn jeans revealing gashes along the legs. "How will you know the right people want her alive?"

Nick felt something else besides a pulse against the girl's neck. He slid his fingers around it and pulled it up.

It was an ancient bronze key, just like the two he already had. He glanced at Trubel.

"I think this is a pretty good sign we can trust her," he said.


	2. Chapter 2: The Portland Mojo

Fifteen hours later, the black Impala merged from I-84 to Interstate 5.

"Hey buddy!" Dean slapped Sam's shoulder. "Wake up! We've hit Portland."

Sam jerked awake, and the first thing he saw was the magnificent peak from his vision in the distance off the freeway.  
"Mount Hood," he identified. "We're getting close."

"Did you dream anything else on the way over?" asked Dean.

Sam sighed, "Nope; just the same girl, over and over. She fights the monsters, then she starts getting tortured or something."

"What about that travel guide you were reading earlier? Say anything in there?"

Sam feathered the pages of "_An Idiot's Guide To Portland_." "Nope; about the most useful thing I could find was that there's a big-ass library there that might have what we need."

Dean shot him a sidelong glance. "How big are we talking?"

"Says here," Sam fished out the paragraph, "Powell's City of Books spans a full city block."

Dean whistled. "Sounds like a place that just might have what we need."

"Okay, there's the address."

Very soon, Dean parked the Impala in a lot across the street from the "big-ass library." Inside, they saw that the various sections of the bookstore were color-coded... As in, the walls of each wing and corresponding hallway were painted the same color. Standing in the "Rose Wing", he could see arrows pointing to places like the Blue Room and the Green Room. Sam grabbed a map.

"Here," he pointed, "There's a Rare Book vault in something called the Pearl Room. That might tell us something."

"Excuse me," Dean caught the attention of a staffer wearing a name badge with the name Darren. "Can you help us?"

Darren whirled around. "I don't-ah, I mean..." he ducked his head sheepishly, "What are you looking for?"  
Dean blinked and almost forgot to answer, because at that moment, something happened to Darren's face: his cheeks puffed out, faint whiskers emerged, and his eyes seemed to expand. The effect made him look like a huge mouse. "Um, ah," Dean fought to maintain composure. "We, my brother and I-"

"We're looking for books on the history of Portland," Sam cut in, shooting his brother a weird look.

Darren nodded. "There's a Pacific Northwest section in our Purple Room." He tapped the map. "That might have what you're looking for."

Sam nodded. "Okay, thanks man." He grabbed Dean's hand and led him toward the stairs.

Dean couldn't take his eyes off the short, stocky employee. What the heck did he just see?  
"Dean, come on!" Sam hissed.

They paused in the Purple Room. A staircase on the side led up to the Pearl Room.

Sam glanced at Dean. "Okay, so how are we going to play this?" he asked.

Dean shook off the mouse-face and returned to business. "Okay, I'll head over to the Northwest section and see what I can find, and you can go up to the Rare Books and see what kind of stuff this place has." He couldn't refrain from glancing around one more time.

"Hey," Sam said, "Are you okay?"

"Hm? What?" Dean's eyes locked back on his brother. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go ahead. Meet me back down here when you're done."

Sam nodded. "Okay." He climbed the steps to the Pearl Room.

Dean navigated the shelves in the Pearl Room till he reached the section labeled Pacific Northwest. The books covered all three states: Idaho, Washington, and Oregon. Travel guides, _101 Things To Do, Famous Restaurants_... Dean spotted a title he thought sounded promising: _"The Spirit of Portland."_ He pulled it from the shelf; as it turned out, all it talked about was the famous yacht that offered dinner cruises during the summer and fall months. He placed that back on the shelf. Nearer to the side of the room crossing into the Red Room, where the Religion section was located, he found a book titled _"Stumptown: Myths and Legends."_ Grinning widely, Dean began reading.

This book was more the type he was looking for: Sasquatch, werewolf sightings, other monsters with bizarre names and stranger appearances. Dean kept reading as he stepped out from the shelf.

"Hojeez!" Dean almost dropped the book as the most freakishly real Halloween mask he had ever seen jumped out at him. He blinked once, twice-the face before him was that of a normal girl, pretty, in fact. She raised her eyebrows at him and moved on. Dean clapped the book against his chest and caught his breath. There was something weird about Portland, that was for sure! He grabbed another book about the founding of Portland and moved to the small sitting area at the back to read.

Apparently, some of the caves and lakes around the Portland area were said to be home to exotic creatures from one's nightmares, but these were only isolated sightings, no actual evidence. He moved on to the next one.  
As he read, Dean noticed the girl with the light-brown hair who happened to sit next to him. She had earphones in, the classic "No" in the World of Unspoken Communication, but Dean couldn't help admiring her fair skin, the intelligent curve of her... lips; the high cheekbones and the-

She gave a little start as her cell phone jangled loudly. She turned to answer it while Dean was still staring, and suddenly, he gasped and nearly fell out of his chair. Her face had suddenly sprouted scales and morphed into something like a giant turtle! Dean shook his head, and the turtle was gone. She was just a girl again.

Dean walked back to the Religion shelves; yes, there was definitely something wrong about Portland! He scanned the shelves for something-anything-that connected the city with any strange religious practices. Buddhism traditions, T_ao in Portland, Sikhism in Portland, a Catholic's Guide to Portland_-the trouble wasn't which spiritual practice, it was that every religion was alive and well! Dean nearly smacked into the shelf in front of him when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Dude," said Sam, "What is wrong with you?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Nothing; I think I just got a touch of the old Portland Mojo."

Sam frowned, "You picked up some kind of drug?"

Dean shook his head. "Never mind; what did you find?"

"There wasn't much in the news articles on display, and I didn't exactly see any off-the-wall trends... Well, nothing that seemed like it was a regular trend, anyway."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, it seems like the only major trends in Portland are coffee, beer, and bucking the trend."

Sam nodded to the books in Dean's hand. "What are those?"

"Ah, just a bunch of myths and legends and stuff from Portland's past. Not much, really. But man, do you feel that?" A chill ran down his spine. "There is something really weird about this place!"

Sam gave him a dubious look. "So far the weirdest thing I've seen is the way you're acting."

"What?" Dean nailed his brother with a look. "That's not-I wasn't-I mean... Whatever!" he pinched the bridge of his nose. "So the monster angle is a bust; let's see if we can't find that girl, Bonnie-"

"Brooke."

"-Brooke, and save her or protect her or whatever the heck we gotta do."

"All right," said Sam. "I think it's just about time, anyway. The sky in my vision was pretty dark, and it's getting to be sundown."

"So what do we do? Search all the Brookes in Portland?"

Sam shrugged. "You got a better idea?"

Dean paused a moment. "Maybe; what was that stretch of highway you were talking about?"

"Twenty-six?" asked Sam.

Dean nodded. "Now, whatever's going down is gonna happen there, so I think we oughta drive over there and see if we can spot anything suspicious."

"Sounds good to me," said Sam.

The brothers returned to the Impala and drove toward the highway. Just a few blocks past the bookstore, Sam jerked up straight and shouted, "There!" He pointed to an empty stretch of woods alongside the road.

Dean released his foot from the brake and waved an apology to the car behind him. He chose the narrow residential road Sam indicated and proceeded slowly.

"What the heck was that?" he demanded, but Sam was already cringing as if his head was about to explode.  
_"Gah!"_

"Talk to me, Sam!"

"I thought..."

"You saw her?"

"Can't be sure. I don't know. Maybe-"

"Did you see her go down this way?"

"I think so."

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Sammy-boy!"

"Dean, look out!"

Dean slammed on the brakes as a young man on a bike zipped across the road in front of him. On the other side of the street was a steep hill. The biker paused and glanced over at the brothers as Dean pulled ahead. Sam gasped, and Dean glanced at him.

"Demon?"

"Yep."

"Finally, this town is starting to make sense! I vote we follow him."

"Motion carried," said Lawyer Sam.

They caught sight of the biker not far away, just after a Market Street. The bike path took a turn deeper into the forest, where the car couldn't follow. Dean pulled the Impala off to the side of the road.

"Looks like we're going to have to follow him on foot," he observed to Sam.

The younger Winchester nodded grimly. "This has gotta be it; Highway 26 is just on the other side of these woods. It's about the right time."

Dean climbed out. "Works for me."

The two brothers grabbed knives, stakes, and holy water from the trunk, and Dean grabbed a shotgun for good measure. They set off down the bike path among trees so thick they blocked out almost all light. The only way they could find the path was by flashlight.

"Hey, Sam," said Dean, "Check it out." He pointed the beam at the ground. The bike had passed right through a puddle, leaving a distinct, dark trail down the middle of the asphalt.

They walked through the gathering darkness till the wet tire track faded from sight. The two brothers followed the path till it branched off, leaving them with no way of knowing which fork to choose.

"Where do you think he might have gone?" Sam asked Dean.

Before Dean could answer, a scream Sam knew all too well split the air.

_"NOOO! BROOKE!"_

He chose the right-hand branch. "This way!"

The Winchester boys took off running. Screams guided them all the way, till at last they reached a clearing that looked all torn up, with blood and turned earth and scraps of fabric and at least three dead bodies bearing testament to a recent battle. Dean felt the neck of the nearest dead man.

"Stiff, but not stone," he said to Sam.

"This just happened," Sam voiced the conclusion. "We're close; the vision is happening right-_Gahh!_" He screamed as another vision slammed into his head.

_Same girl... Bound, and her body on fire... Flames exploding from the inside, consuming her body..._

"We have to keep going!" he groaned through gritted teeth. Dean helped him to his feet and they kept running forward.

Minutes later, Dean's pace slowed. "Hey, do you smell that?"

Sam stopped and sniffed. "It smells like a gas leak," he said, and gasped. "She's gonna die in a fire if we don't save her!"

They ran forward till they could hear the sound of voices again. A large building stood out in the darkness. Dean and Sam crept inside, weapons drawn.


	3. Chapter 3: Two Brookes Diverged

"I'm going to ask you one more time," the commanding voice echoed through the decrepit shell of the warehouse, "Where is the Key?"

The only reply was soft, painful whimpering.

"This one knows nothing," spat the voice. "Kill her."

At that pronouncement, the brothers charged forward to the sound... Unfortunately, neither noticed the gaping hole in the concrete floor that they both tumbled through, still yelling defiantly.

Their yells broke off suddenly as they landed in a roll, but they got to their feet and brandished their weapons. The gas smell was almost overwhelming, and a fine haze seemed to cloud everything.

Sam glanced over and saw the girl, duct-taped to the chair like he'd seen it. Eight dirty, wiry men surrounded her.

Dean aimed his gun at the nearest man. "Nobody touches her!" he growled. "She's coming with us!"

The man grinned slowly. Somebody coughed, and soon, they were all coughing. The haze in the room grew thicker. Surprisingly, none of them seemed to think the girl worth defending, as they backed away from the guns and knives, allowing Sam to get to the girl. He pulled out his knife to cut the tape.

"Listen," she hissed, "I don't know who you are, but you have to get away now!"

"I know," said Sam, peeling the tape from her clothes. "You're coming with us."

"No! I mean now!"

Dean cocked his shotgun. "You all stay back!" he said to the ring of kidnappers. They seemed far too relaxed, like spectators at a gladiator game, waiting to watch the carnage. One of them sucked in a deep breath.

"Look out!" the girl screamed, and the very air exploded in a gigantic fireball.

The Winchesters and the girl kissed cement as the inferno raged just above their heads.

"How are they doing this?" Sam shouted at his brother.

Dean looked up. Through the filmy haze of the heat, the men's faces almost resembled dragons; were they actually breathing fire? The flames receded, and Dean wasted no time in firing off a couple rounds, right there from his knees.

Sam did the same with his knife, taking out two more of the dragon-people as they ran forward. More fireballs exploded behind them, but they made it to the open air. The girl cried out and stumbled, and Sam saw that her left sock and shoe were covered with blood, but Dean said, "Keep running!"

Sam all but carried the girl all the way back to the Impala, where they helped her inside and took off before the flame-throwing men could catch up to them.

Finally, when Dean had returned to the main part of town and no one had pursued them, he turned around and smiled reassuringly at the girl.

"Is your name Brooke?" he asked.

She glanced from one to the other. "Who's asking? Who the hell are you guys?"

"We're the ones who rescued you from those things back there," said Sam. "It's okay, Brooke." He reached back for her hand. "You're safe. We'll protect you, we promise."

Dean pulled over to a Courtyard hotel and parked the car. "I'll get us a room," he said to Sam.

"Make it two," said Brooke. "I'm not spending the night in a room with total strangers."

Dean studied her for a moment, then nodded. After he left, Sam pulled the first-aid kit out of the glove box. "Let's get you patched up a little while we wait," he said. "I'm Sam, by the way," he got out of the car and opened the door beside Brooke, pulling up her wounded foot. "Sam Winchester; the other guy is my brother Dean."

"Brothers, huh?" Brooke said, grimacing as Sam peeled the shoe and bloody sock away.

"Do you have any siblings, Brooke?" Sam asked, keeping the conversation going to take her mind off the wounds. It would be better once they got into the room with towels and running water, but it wouldn't do to bring a bleeding woman into a hotel.

"I had a sister once," Brooke grunted. "But she disappeared."

"Oh, sorry." Sam mentally kicked himself for asking the entirely wrong question. He busied himself bandaging the deep gash on her ankle and rinsing most of the blood off the shoe with a water bottle. He slipped the shoe onto her bare foot. They would need to wash the sock later to get all the blood out.

"Brooke, do you mind if I ask you something?" He decided to go for permission this time.

"Go ahead," she replied. "You saved my life, it's the least I can do."

"When Dean and I first got to the building, we heard the man mention a key; do you know what he was talking about?"

Brooke's eyes remained expressionless, but there was a small flicker around her lips as she replied, "No; I wish I did, but I have no idea where that key is." She blinked intense blue eyes. "But I need to find it, and before those guys do." She smirked at Sam. "You guys seemed to find me pretty easily; how would you like to help me find a key?"

* * *

The next morning, Juliette woke up and Nick was not in bed-but his pajamas were not draped on the chair where they usually were when he had gotten dressed early. Puzzled, Juliette threw on a robe and left the bedroom.  
Trubel was just coming out of her room at the same time.

"Trubel, have you seen Nick?" Juliette asked.

The odd girl would not meet Juliette's gaze all of a sudden. "Um, downstairs I think," she mumbled, ducking back into her room again.

"Nick?" Juliette called, peering down the stairs to spot him as she descended. "Nick, why are you-ohmigosh!"

Nick jumped awake, from the armchair in which he had fallen asleep, at Juliette's cry. At first he didn't know why he was in the armchair, or why Juliette looked so horrified... Then he saw the wounded girl on the couch and every moment if that bizarre night came back. So it wasn't a dream after all... The man, Trubel helping him bandage the unconscious girl, him dismissing her to bed while he watched the girl...

Juliette came to stand by Nick as their mysterious guest stirred. She opened her eyes and blinked, flinching in fright when she saw the three strangers watching her.

"Wh-where am I?" she asked, fighting to sit up, and realizing all the bandages she now wore.

"You're in Portland, Oregon," Nick explained.

She waved her hand, "I know that." She sat up and looked at him. "Are you the Portland Grimm?"

Nick blinked. "How did you know?"

The girl gave a sigh of relief-not the typical reaction Nick received with such a revelation.  
"I didn't, till just now," she replied. "But I've been looking for you everywhere. You see," she ducked her head and fiddled with the bandage on her wrist, "I'm a Grimm too, but I don't know much about them."

"Really?" Trubel asked. "So am I!"

"And what about you?" the girl turned to Juliette. "Are you a Grimm as well?"

Juliette shook her head emphatically. "Who, me? Oh, no; I'm not a-a Grimm or a Wesen. I'm, um, a-"

"A _Kheirseite-schlich-kennen_?" The girl supplied.

Juliette nodded. "Yeah, that." She fidgeted nervously. "You know what? I'm going to cook us up some breakfast while you three Grimms chat." She left the room immediately.

Trubel sat on the couch next to the girl. "So, you got a name?"

"Brooke," the girl answered.

Nick watched her; there was something familiar about this girl.

"Well, I'm Trubel, and this is Nick. The woman cooking breakfast is his wife, Juliette."

Brooke nodded and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Nick noticed the bracelet she wore: a six-pointed Star of David. It all came rushing back-but was it really her? He sat forward. "Brooke... Were you the one who helped me kill the Mauvais Dentes last week?"

Brooke blinked, remembering that terrifying night. "Yeah, that was me."

Juliette came in at this time, carrying a bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate of sausages. She grabbed plates from the cupboard and they all sat there in the living room to eat.

"So tell me, Brooke," said Juliette. "How did you get here?"

Brooke swallowed a bite of sausage and answered, "I hitched it all the way from Salem."

"Alone?"

"No; a band of Wesen took me in."

Nick glanced at Trubel, well remembering the antagonism she felt against the "creature-people." "And you were okay with that?"

Brooke looked confused and almost offended. "What? It's not like they were out to kill me or anything. I was raised by Wesen, at an orphanage in Eugene, so I guess I'm used to them."

"So you walked to my house from Salem-then who was the guy?" asked Nick.

"What guy?" Brooke reached for another helping of eggs.

"The guy who brought you to my house last night."

Brooke paused and studied him. "I have no idea how I got to your house last night. All I know is, I ran into some trouble last night, somewhere along Highway 26, and I blacked out... Then I woke up here." She frowned in confusion. "You're saying you didn't go find me and carry me back here?"

Nick snorted, "I didn't even know you before you showed up bleeding on my couch; how could I possibly find you?"

"Oh..." Brooke set her plate aside and pondered deeply. Abruptly, she looked up. "It might have something to do with this." She reached to her collar and pulled out a key hanging on a chain.

Juliette gasped. "Nick, is that another one?"

Nick shrugged. "Trubel and I found it last night when we were patching you up. Can I see it?"

"Sure." Brooke handed it over. "That was one of the reasons I wanted to find you, so you could tell me more about the key."

Nick went to the desk in his home office to grab a piece of paper and an ink pad. "Unfortunately, I don't know much about the keys, other than there are seven altogether, each is imprinted with part of a map depicting somewhere in Europe, and I have two of them." He pressed Brooke's key into the ink and stamped the paper carefully. They studied the resulting image together.

"Well," Trubel remarked when no one else said anything, "that's not a map."

"Is it Hebrew?" Juliette mused. "What does it say?"

"_Hashomer achi enochi_." Brooke pronounced the words carefully. "It means, _Am I My Brother's Keeper_."  
Nick raised an eyebrow at her, and Brooke shrugged.

"The Maushertz who raised me was Jewish, and she kind of ran the orphanage like a synagogue. I picked up a few phrases here and there." She sighed and hung the key around her neck. "But I guess if the point of this whole trip was to find out what the key was, then it's a bust."

"Not completely," Trubel spoke up. "I mean, you're a Grimm, but do you know what that's all about?"

"Well," Brooke shifted uncomfortably, "no..."

"Nick can teach you," Trubel offered. "He's got a whole trailer full of stuff that-"

"Trubel!" Nick cut her off with a warning look.

Juliette reached over and grasped Brooke's hand, glancing at the bandaged cuts all along her arm. "In all honesty, you really should stick around till your wounds heal."

Brooke looked hopeful. "You'd let me stay?"

Juliette swallowed her reluctance and smiled. "Sure! What's one more Grimm when we already have two? There's one more guest room you can have."

"Thank you!" Brooke cried.

Trubel took her hand, every inch the older sister she was always meant to be. "Come on, kid; I'll show you around."

When the girls left, Juliette shot Nick a worried look. "Would you mind explaining this to me? What are we, Nick? Some exclusive Grimm halfway house?"

"No," Nick answered. "Don't worry; I have a feeling Brooke is going to be more temporary than Trubel ended up. The man who brought her last night said that some brothers will be coming to receive her. I'm just supposed to keep her safe till they arrive."

Juliette sighed and gathered up the dishes. "Just _once_ I'd like a full explanation of what's going on!" she grumbled.

Nick couldn't agree with her more.


	4. Chapter 4: A Little Bee Told Me

Pamela Sipa sat in the office of the Arvey Paper & Supplies store, sipping her tea and reviewing the sales trends for the company.  
At least, that's what she should have been doing.

Smirking to herself, Pamela went to the window. A single bee hovered around the meager pot of flowers just below the sill. Pamela watched the bee as it bobbed around the flower, rose up to inscribe an infinity sign before her face, and flew away. She closed her eyes as the pheromone signal wafted from her skin. Instantly, the air was filled with a low, loud hum, and the sky darkened briefly as a thick black cloud of bees answered the call of their queen and gathered to be dispersed by her.  
When Pamela opened her eyes, they were dead-black.

"Yes, my little minions," she said, as if the bees could understand her, "spread throughout the city and search for the one with the Key. I know it is here somewhere. Find it!"

The cloud evaporated in all directions. Pamela smiled and closed the window. Adjusting the collar of her cardigan, she made her way back out onto the sales floor.

Passing employees nodded to her. She smiled back at them, dispensing her approval at their united industriousness to fulfill company goals and achieve expectations.

"Glad to see you enjoying yourself," said a sharp voice.

Pamela stiffened, and her smile disappeared. She turned and nailed the speaker-a young man with gleaming blue eyes and rugged workman's attire-with a frosty glare.

"Don't tell me; Dad's getting impatient again?" she sneered.

The man shrugged as his eyes switched from bright-blue to dead-black and back again. "No, I just show up out of the kindness of my heart-what do you think, dumbass? You think just because you're the queen bee now, you can just take your own sweet time and get your little friends to do your dirty work? Is that how you think this works... _Meg_?" he laid the full weight of sarcasm on the syllable.

Pamela flinched as the name of the demon possessing her caused her eyes to flicker as well.  
"I'm working as fast as I can," she snarled. "It's not like I don't have a lot of ground to cover!"

"And even less time to cover it in!" the man snapped back, veins popping out on his neck. "The Hell-gate must open soon, if we're going to gain the upper hand in this war... And you know how your father feels about failure." With that, the man turned heel, rounded the corner, and by the time Pamela reached that same spot, he vanished from sight.

Just then, a lone bee flew down from the path it had been taking among the rafters, the better to reach her without bring smashed by another person in the process. It flew circles around Pamela's head, relaying a message she understood as clearly as a thought projected onto her mind: two tall young men in a black Impala, cruising the streets of Portland. She gave instructions back to the bee, who departed to carry her message to the others. Pamela smiled again, reflecting on how this day was finally shaping up to be a very good day.

* * *

Sam and Raven sat in the sagging armchairs of the Bipartisan Cafe, waiting for Dean to bring the coffees over.  
"So, this key that you need to find," said Sam, "what's so important about it?"

Raven licked her lips. "All I know is that they are relics from the Middle Ages, there were originally seven, but only four are known, and at least one of those is somewhere here in Portland."

"So you don't know what the key will unlock?" Dean appeared with three paper cups. He handed one to her. "Here you go, Brooke."

Raven had little trouble behaving like her innocent younger sister. Let them continue to protect her. She could use it to her advantage. "Thanks," she gave Dean a grateful glance that made him feel every inch the hero. She answered his question, "I tried researching the key before I came here, but there's little to go on. Some sources regard the key itself as merely symbolic, with the casing itself imprinted with valuable information. Others mention a secret location somewhere in the Black Forest of Germany with seven locks for the keys, concealing a vast hoard of treasure."

"Well, whatever it is," Sam said, "I think we can assume that finding it ourselves instead of letting those thugs from last night get it is the right move."

Raven saw Dean glance at her, so she gave a shudder as Brooke would. Her espionage training saw his question coming before he asked it.

"Are you okay?"

Of course he was asking as if last night's preliminary interrogation had left any emotional or psychological scarring. Raven imagined sneering at him; he could not possibly know what she endured at the hand of her Verrat trainer. Lady Aurelia had insisted she receive the full course, so that under no circumstances would she ever break-not even under worse pain than being boxed around by a damonfeuer. For now, she kept her eyes fixed on her Americano.

"I'll be fine," she assured Dean. Turning to Sam, she said, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I know the person behind last night's attack, and she knows of another key that was on it's way north from Eugene and she was convinced that I had it."

The memory of her last conversation with Lady Serena came back. "_You already lost it... He saw you walk right past its location..._" But then why call an attack on her if she had already established that Raven was not in possession?

Raven only vaguely followed the brothers' conversation about the legends connecting a secret society to the Black Forest as potential key-masters as she reviewed the events of the last week. She really owed Serena's arrogance for the discovery of her sister; if she hadn't been so paranoid about the Hexenbieste, she would probably never have noticed her twin sister. What were the odds that twin sisters, one heading north and the other, south, would cross paths in the same city? Her own upbringing in European high society had equipped her to be the very best in her craft, while she discerned from Brooke's stories of being raised by Wesen in a foster house in Eugene-

Raven blinked. "The key is with Brooke!" she muttered.

Dean glanced at her. "What?"

Raven's mind spun. It all made sense! The attack wasn't on her; Serena was trying to get revenge on Raven for humiliating her by divulging the location of her sister!  
"I know where that key is!" she gasped. Of course Serena had been tracking Brooke; lucky for her, the reunited sisters were inseparable, so an attack on Brooke would necessarily facilitate Raven as a casualty.

"Where is it, Brooke?" asked Sam.

"The key is with-" Raven stopped just before the name slipped out of her mouth. Mentally, she kicked herself. If she was Brooke, what was the use of telling them she had a sister named Raven who had the key? And if Brooke had the key all this time, why didn't she ever mention it to Raven? Raven could see only two options: Either Brooke didn't know it was significant enough to bear mentioning, or she knew the significance of the key and did not trust Raven enough to tell her. And Raven had been so sure that her sister would lead her right to the Grimm she was after-would Brooke have the wherewithal to plan on giving her the slip and handing over the key before Raven could find them? Raven didn't even know how to answer that.

"With whom?" Dean's voice reminded Raven that she had an unfinished sentence.

"With a man named Nick Burkhart," Raven answered. If Brooke was going to escape her grasp, she would prove her worth to Lady Aurelia by accomplishing her original goal and redeeming the key from the "dangerous Grimm."

"Burkhart? Who is he?" Dean asked as Sam pulled out his laptop and searched the name.

"I haven't met him yet, but I know his family had enough connection with my employers that he acquired one of the seven keys that his ancestors stole. I was commissioned to reclaim it."

"There's something else," Sam spoke up, turning his screen so they could see it. "It says here, he's a cop."

Raven blinked; no wonder the cops were all over the dead Mauvais Dentes, but the murder never actually made the news. A cop! Raven studied the dark-haired man in the picture. The page mentioned Police Chief Sean Renard-the Portland Royal. Did the Royal Bastard know he had a Grimm working alongside him?

"So, what," said Dean, "are we going to have to steal this key from a cop?"

Raven could have cheered; now they were talking about stealing; apparently she had landed herself a couple of accomplices who did not mind bending the law if the cause was important enough. All she had to do was make them think so.

"This man went rogue a few years ago," she said. "He started staging crimes to cover his kills and siding with the Wesen."

"The who?"

"Dangerous creatures that roam freely because they look like normal people on the outside, but when they become agitated, their creature natures manifest in forms too terrifying to be human."

Sam remained skeptical, but she noticed Dean sit forward slightly; that the older brother should so readily believe while the younger should not be convinced was backwards from what Raven expected, but Ludwig hadn't spent six years training her in only one way to skin a Fuchsbau. She was nothing if not flexible and just reckless enough to use whatever means at her disposal to her full advantage.

Sam only blinked, unimpressed. "Yeah, see, Brooke, I don't know if you've figured it out yet, but Dean and I hunt demons as the family business, so the existence of invisible creatures that supposedly terrify is nothing new for us."

"No, she's not talking about your normal demon, Sam," Dean corrected him. "These creatures look like regular humans most of the time, and then their whole face changes-sometimes even their whole body-and can switch back and forth between monster and human."

Raven bit back a smile; it sounded like Dean may have inadvertently sighted a Wesen. She couldn't have put it better, herself.

Meanwhile, Sam was giving his brother a confused look. "How do you know about this?"

Raven rolled her eyes and raised her hand. "Let's stay focused, boys! All you need to know is that Wesen are dangerous, and this man," she tapped Nick Burkhart's picture, "is even more so. I have a feeling getting the key from him is not going to be easy."

"Yeah, and if he's a cop, he's not going to have all his information online for everyone to find," agreed Sam.

Dean pulled out his phone and started dialing the number for the precinct. "So we get him to tell us," he murmured to Sam and Brooke while the phone rang. A receptionist picked up. "Yes," said Dean, "I'm calling to speak with a Nick Burkhart."


	5. Chapter 5: Meeting the Grimm

Ten minutes later, they were in the Impala heading north on 39th Street.

"So let me get this straight," Raven said, "You pretended to be a total stranger who received a package for him at the wrong address-and not only did he give you the address, but he told you what time he'd be home, too?"

Dean chuckled. "You'd be surprised how effective a little promised kindness can be. It's not one of my better performances, but lucky for us, it worked."

Raven paused just long enough as she smiled. "You do realize he's going to know you gave a false name, right? I mean, all he has to do is search it."

Dean shrugged. "It was never meant to last. It worked for as long as I needed it to," he said.

Dean pulled the Impala up in front of a grey house with white trim.

"There it is," he said.

Raven sized up the exterior. "The front door's going to be locked, so our best bet is around back."

Dean glanced at her in the rear view mirror. "What, you want to do this now, Brooke?" He asked.

She shrugged, "No time like the present; besides, it's very likely only a matter of time before—"

"Incoming!" Sam cried as a siren wailed in the distance.

"_Sonofabitch!_" cried Dean, throwing Baby into gear and pulling out.

"No!" Raven yelled. "You start driving now, they'll see you! Pull into that driveway!"

Dean did so, sliding the car through an open gate to an empty concrete slab. Raven popped out and closed the gate just as cars screeched up in front of the Burkhart house. One officer emerged from the patrol car with the flashing lights, and two men in plain clothes from the other undercover sedan.

"Look," Sam whispered to Dean. One of the plainclothes men was Nick Burkhart.

The officer knocked on the front door, and a redheaded woman answered.

"Who is that?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Raven answered. "I wasn't aware that he was married."

"Girlfriend, maybe?" Sam guessed. "Good thing we didn't hit the house just now."

The officer paused to confer with Nick, perhaps to assure him that the house had not been disturbed. The trio ducked behind the fence as Nick glanced in their direction. The officer left, and Nick soon received a call that drew him and his partner away.

Raven and the Winchesters ducked back into the Impala and pulled away. Raven was keenly aware of a face watching them from the window—but whether it was the girlfriend or someone (or no one) she could not tell.

"All right, so we're going to have to wait till tonight to break into the house," Dean glanced dubiously in Raven's direction, "if you're still game. How badly do you want this key, Brooke?"

She gave him a withering look. "Bad enough that I'd go through torture to get it before someone else does, remember? We can try again tonight. I think I can come up with a plan that will get us what we want by then."

The three of them gathered outside Killer Burger to strategize.

"Man," Dean murmured through a mouthful of beef, cheese, and ketchup, "I don't know what it is about this place, but these burgers really are killer!"

"Nice," Sam replied with a face and tone that meant the opposite. "Anyway, Dean can pick the lock of the back door, and I can be lookout while Brooke slips in and searches for the key. How does that sound?"

Raven mulled it over for a minute, then nodded. "I–"

"Brooke?" The man who spoke was tall and broad with fair hair and rugged features. He made straight for the young girl as if greeting a long-lost daughter. "Brooke! Fancy meeting you here! But I thought-"

"Get away from me!" Raven knew she probably could have afforded a gentler tone than the savage snarl that came out, but this man obviously knew her sister, so her cover would be blown if she got too close. She smacked his arm away. "Don't touch me! I don't know who you are!"

The man was so shocked he woged into a Klaustreich; Raven figured he must have been one of the Wesen Brooke ran with in Salem. She had very little time to think about this, because the instant the man woged, Dean jumped up with an expletive as if the French fry he just ate had caught fire. His fist came up and he decked the man before anyone could blink.

"What the hell, Dean?" asked Sam.

"We're getting out of here, Sam!" Dean cried, "Come on, Brooke."

Raven noticed an older man helping the Klaustreich to his feet. She played upon the obvious fear of him that Dean harbored–had he seen the woge? Raven had been so accustomed to seeing the woge forms without trying that she had no idea when or whether it would be visible to Kehrseiten–and behaved very afraid of the man they left behind. "Who was that? What did he want?"

Dean practically threw her into the car before jumping in, himself. He looked directly at Raven.

"You saw that, didn't you? You freaking saw that–that thing!"

"Saw what, Dean?" Sam demanded.

Dean wouldn't take his eyes off Raven's face. She saw the terror of a person who had just witnessed the inexplicable–but she also saw how desperate he was to have some kind of confirmation. She almost thought about toying with him, but Raven knew that in order to be an asset to her, these boys needed to believe in Wesen, and believe that they were all horrible beasts. It would be safer for her not to have to worry about them getting in the way of her quest for the key.

"I saw," she admitted simply, eliciting another confused response from

Sam. "But we can't let those things distract us from the task at hand, Dean. We have got to get that key tonight."

About an hour after all the lights in the house went out, three figures crept silently through the darkness. Dean had the back door open in seconds, and Raven whisked herself inside without so much as the tap of a footfall. The Winchesters waited by the door, straining for any sound.

Dean shivered and pulled his coat closer as the temperature dropped.

"So," whispered Sam, by way of conversation, "What do you think of Portland so far?"

Dean frowned. "I don't like it; everything's too weird here, and darn creepy, and just cold and grey."

"Portland is... special, I'll give you that," Sam agreed. "But so far, Dean, the strangest behavior I've seen, frankly is you."

Suddenly, Dean whipped out his flashlight and shined the beam over some trees. "What's that?" He snapped quickly.

Sam peered into the circle of light. "It's nothing." He turned to his brother. "Are you sure you're not getting paranoid?"

Dean stared at his brother for a long time; when would Sam get the hint and start seeing what was going on?

"I'm sure," he said without flinching.

Sam shrugged and shifted his beam off to a bush on the left. "Well, I'm just going to-"

"Look out!"

Just when Dean was beginning to relax his vigil, a dark shape hurtled out of the shadows where his flashlight beam had been. Dean saw the flap of a suit jacket, but as he lunged for the figure's shoulder, he saw in the moonlight that this suit-wearing stranger had claws, fur, and sharp teeth.

"Werewolf!" He gasped, fumbling for the silver knife he carried.

Sam grappled with the man, who possessed extraordinary strength and reflexes, whether or not he was actually a werewolf like Dean said. His opponent dodged a blow, and Sam was relieved to see Dean whirl around behind him and bury the blade in his back. The fight was no doubt finished now.

The man snarled in pain, and Sam saw his beast-form for the first time.

"What the hell?" He gasped, shrinking away from the furry face and the bared fangs.

The wolf-man glared at them, stood straight, and plucked the knife from his own back.

Now both brothers glanced at each other; this was no ordinary monster. It advanced on them, flourishing the knife wet with its own blood.

"What do we do now?" Sam whispered to Dean.

Abruptly, the back door flew open at the same time something struck the beast-man and he went down. A blonde girl armed with a wicked-looking machete twisted and kicked the man, beating him back away from them. She scored a hit that left him stumbling and off-balance, and took the moment to glance back and check on the boys.

"Brooke?" cried Dean.

"You boys okay?" She asked.

Sam wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Yeah," he said.

"Good." She immediately turned to engage the beast again.

He had recovered from her last sally, and now came at her with the knife. He swung, but she blocked it with her arm while she swept his leg out. He compensated for lost balance by twisting her away from him and wrapping his other arm around her neck, choking her. Raven slipped a small shiv out of a slit in her jacket and jammed it into the man's side. Grabbing his wrist she yanked his arm forward and used the momentum to hurl his body over the fence into the neighbor's yard. He landed with a crash. She leaped over after him, leaving the Winchester brothers still wondering just what had happened.

"Dean," muttered Sam, "just what was that thing? No werewolf can withstand silver."

Dean was still staring at his hands. The scratches from the beast-man's claws–solid evidence that the thing they fought was not human–smarted now.

"I don't know," he mumbled hollowly. "Maybe it's one of those Vensen things Brooke mentioned earlier."

On the other side of the fence, Raven knew exactly whom she faced: a Hundjaeger, favored lackey of Royals and Hexenbiesten.

She baited him. "I thought _Schweinejaeger_ were pack animals," she said, "so where are your pals?"

He blocked her punch, woged back into a human, and moved to grab her long hair. "My mistress didn't think you worth sending more," he growled.

Raven could reason while she fought, and soon reached the connection. "Only one Hexenbieste ever underestimated me; I take it Lady Serena is out for revenge, then?" She executed a full-body twist that would have made Ludwig proud enough to nod in approval and succeeded in evading his grasp and driving the heel of her hand into his face at the same time.

The man grabbed his nose and howled in pain as blood seeped through his fingers. Crouching low, he woged into hound-form and braced himself for more. "Lady Serena is out for the key!" He growled back. "The Grimm Raven is of no consequence to her. You've proven your uselessness and incapacity!"

Raven kicked him under the chin and sent him reeling. She wondered if her new companions had heard the Hundjaeger call her by a different name than the one they knew. "The Grimm Raven," she retorted, reclaiming her discarded machete, "has no use for pretentious witches who think Grimms are nothing more than weapons to be shuffled from place to place!" She swung, but the Hundjaeger brought down a shelf of plants beside her, deflecting her blow. She went down in a pile of terra cotta, potting soil, and wood.

"Her Ladyship doesn't take kindly to subordinates giving orders and not taking them," the Hundjaeger growled. "She sent me ahead to say she's coming for you!"

A gun cracked behind them. Raven dusted dirt out of her eyes to see the two brothers coming over the fence. Dean had a gun in his hand. He fired again, and the Hundjaeger ran off.

Sam reached Raven's side and started pulling things off of her.

"Brooke, are you okay?" he asked.

She accepted his assistance in hauling herself out of the mess. "Yeah, I think so."

Dean came back from the road. "Lost 'im," he grunted.

Raven waved her hand. "It's okay; he's not after us, anyway. Remember this morning when I told you about the Wesen, and how dangerous they were?"

"Yeah," said Dean. "You're saying that thing was one of them?"

Raven nodded. "And the woman he works for, too-she's one of the worst kind, the ones that can cast spells and make potions and stuff."

"I heard him mention something about the key and some kind of Raven," Sam observed. "What was that about?"

Raven fought to keep her composure as she invented an explanation. "Grimm Raven is just a renegade servant of the Wesen gentry-we don't have to worry about that. Our problem now is that the Wesen boss-"

"The witch kind," Dean supplied.

Raven nodded, "Yeah, she wants the key so bad that she and all her goons are coming to Portland to get it."

"What does that mean for us?" Sam asked.

"It means there will be a lot of evil Wesen coming our way," Raven answered.

"Man," Dean whistled, "this is like no other job we've ever been on, for sure!"

Sam wagged his head. "I'm beginning to think we aren't exactly cut out for this. I mean, I don't even get why we're involved."

Raven studied the brothers. She knew, from her conversation with Sam, that the brothers had come to Portland expecting the supernatural, instead of the paranormal. All they knew about was finding and slaying demons and monsters, not dealing with people who could morph into flesh-eating beasts. Perhaps she had overestimated their advantage-but she would have to wait for the opportunity to bow out gracefully.

"Let's call it a night," she said. "You two need to get yourselves cleaned up-"

"Speak for yourself!" Sam snorted, pointing at her dirt-and-blood-covered self.

"And I need a shower, obviously," Raven finished, glaring at him. "We can regroup and work on recovering that key in the morning." Yes, a walk on a busy street would be the perfect chance to disappear. They would have no reason to stick around any longer if they couldn't find her. "I promise, once the key is recovered, everything will make perfect sense."


	6. Chapter 6: Things Get Interesting

The next morning, Dean decided to move to the Jupiter Hotel, closer to the neighborhood where Nick Burkhart lived. The Impala was getting low on gas, so he stopped by the nearest gas station to fill up. The attendant accepted his card just as a car nearby backfired. The sound in such a resonant area rang out like a gunshot. The attendant jumped, and Dean saw that the hand on his car had grown brown and stubby and covered with something like quills. He glanced up with a grimace.

The guy (his name tag read "RICKY") had just transformed into a giant porcupine! Dean started rolling up the window as Ricky turned and tried to hide the morphing by focusing on his work. Dean slumped in his seat as he watched. Dragons, he'd seen; wolves were nothing new. But _porcupines_? A human hand rapped on the window. Dean watched it carefully to make sure it wasn't going to morph again. He opened the window just far enough to reach out and snatch the card away.

When he looked over, Sam was staring at him.

"What is wrong with you?" asked the younger Winchester.

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye till Ricky the Porcupine Man moved to the next car. Only then did he open the door.

"I'm going to get something to eat," he said. "You two stay in the car."

"Hey!" Raven sat forward. "I could really use a restroom break right now."

Dean drummed his thumbs on the car as he thought.

"Okay, come with me," he said. "Sam, you watch the car."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You sure?" After the rabbit's foot incident, he knew Dean had been treating him with caution-and certainly this included not trusting him with Baby!

Raven was already out of the car.

Dean glanced back at his brother. "Anything looks wrong, _feels_ wrong, you call me, okay?" He turned to the young blond beside him. "That goes for you, too."

She all but sneered at him.

As soon as Raven entered the store, she peeled off from Dean. He headed for the cold storage at the back of the room, and she pretended to make her way to the restrooms. At the end of the narrow hallway was the staff room. Raven waited till someone came out of the room. She counted two employees, and no sign of any more. Tousling her hair and adjusting her top, she teetered and reeled her way down the hall an stumbled against the door.

The two guys in the back glanced up as the petite blond in the leather jacket careened into the room. She stared around stupidly.

"Wait," she slurred slowly in a broad Southern drawl, "this ain't the ladies' room!"

She was cute, the first guy thought as he stood up and stammered, "Y-you can't be in here-"

She swayed as she stood still, looking green in the face. "I'm gonna be sick," she muttered.

The second guy was at her side, coaxing her to the sink next to the outside door at the back. "Hey, hey! Barf in here, not on the—OW!" He shrieked as the arm he'd extended around her shoulders was forcibly twisted back around his back. The last thing in his consciousness was her foot snaking his legs out from under him and the linoleum floor approaching his face.

The second attendant ran toward her. "What the heck, lady?"

He could say no more as a stiff punch to his midsection drove all the air out of his body. As he bent forward in front of him, she brought her elbow to the sensitive nerve center alongside his shoulder blade, and he collapsed next to his buddy.

Raven paused to make sure they were still breathing before slipping out the door and onto Ankeny Street. Everything was going just as she planned. She headed south toward Stark Street. With all the hints she's been dropping since the night before, she figured she could make it all the way to Grand before they caught up with her.

Outside the gas station, Dean sauntered back to the Impala with his arms full of snacks and drinks. Sam was the only person in the car.

"Where's Brooke?" asked Dean, climbing in.

Sam didn't glance up from the article he was reading on his computer.

"She went in with you," he answered.

Dean snorted. "I know that! I didn't see her while I was paying for the stuff, so I assumed she came back out here."

Sam finally closed his laptop. "Nope, she never did."

Dean frowned and went back into the store. Two of the clerks were nursing bruises and talking about a crazy blond chick who had attacked them and slipped out the back door.

Dean swore under his breath and took long strides back to the car.

"Did you find her?" Sam asked.

"No, but I know what happened," Dean seethed. "Bitch gave us the slip!" He threw the Impala in gear and prepared to pull out.

"Why the heck would she do that?" Sam wondered.

"If I find her, I'll ask!" Dean snapped back. "Now help me figure out where she might have gone!"

Sam pondered over the last few conversations he'd had with Brooke.

"She mentioned there was a contact or something on a street called Cesar something."

"Is that the Cesar Chavez road we were on yesterday?" Dean recalled seeing the singular name on a sign.

"I dunno," Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"Okay, we should be able to meet up with it on this road. Meanwhile, keep a lookout for her."

They drove several blocks eastward, scanning all the way.

"If finding the key was so important," Sam mused to break the silence, "why would she go off to do it by herself when she knows that we can help her?"

Dean sighed. "I don't know; did you ever say anything to make her mistrust us?"

"No; you?"

"Not that I know of," Dean answered. "It just seems kind of backward that a girl who was obviously in enough danger that you had the visions about her would just up and leave like that."

His comment hung in silence for a few blocks more. Then Sam shifted in his seat. "Hey, " he said slowly, "so what do you think if the stuff she's been saying about people having monster-natures and morphing into dangerous creatures and all that stuff?"

Dean was saved from having to answer by their arrival at Cesar Chavez Boulevard.

"So what do you think?" He asked Sam, "Left or right?"

Sam scanned down both sides. "North would make more sense to me. I think she was headed north, anyway."

Dean pulled out and turned left. "North it is!"

They drove until they came upon a roundabout with a golden statue at the center. Dean almost mistook the statue of a warrior on a horse for this Cesar Chavez person, but then he noticed the plaque on the pedestal: "JOAN OF ARC." He snorted at the randomness.

Sam was trying to fill the role of navigator. He scanned the area on the map of Portland. He pointed off to the right. "Go there!"

Dean saw the sign identifying the street as "Glisan."

"Brooke mentioned a street called Glisten?" He pronounced the word to rhyme with "listen."

Sam frowned. "No, I think it's pronounced Glee-son. And yeah. And another street called... Stark!" He pointed to it on the map. Dean glanced over.

"Sam," he observed to his brother, "that street is south of where we just were. You want to go back?" He began looking for places to turn the car around.

Sam stopped him, "No; I am sure she mentioned both places. Maybe they meet up." He scanned the map again.

Dean sighed heavily. "Know what? Here's how it's going to be: see that bus stop over by the traffic circle?" He pointed to it just ahead.

Sam nodded. "Yeah," he said slowly.

"You'll wait there and take the bus to wherever you think she might go. I am going to drive back down to Stark and see if I can't figure out where she might have gone."

Sam nodded. "Okay." He climbed out of the car with his computer in a bag and the map in his hand.

"And Sam?" Dean called after him. "If anything goes wrong, or if you find her-"

"Yeah, yeah," Sam waved carelessly, "I'll call you."

Dean frowned at the cavalier response. "There's a demon loose, you know-and God knows what else!"

"I know," Sam shrugged. "Let's just find Brooke and finish the job, okay?"

Dean nodded. "Okay. Call me if you get another vision-"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just go, already!"

Dean followed the traffic circle around again to return to the road. He drove until he reached Stark. As he debated which way to turn, he saw a stone archway in the trees bearing the name, "LAURELHURST PARK." He considered this. If he was someone who knew Portland, trying to evade someone who didn't, he really wouldn't have to go very far; he could just lose his pursuers in a wide area with plenty of places to hide-like a park. Dean pulled over and parked, then ran across the street to search for Brooke on foot.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the bus stop, Sam sat warily. The bench was none too clean, and two or three bees hovered over a splotch of spilled something. Sam shied as far away from the bugs as he could. A man in a dark suit came and sat at the bus stop without looking at him. Now there were five bees on the puddle. Sam tried to study the map, but it seemed like every time he looked away, a bee would buzz past his ear. He was getting twitchier by the moment. The buzzing at his feet swelled dangerously. He checked again. By now there were so many bees, he couldn't even see the puddle. Still the man in the dark suit hadn't moved. Sam looked over at him.

The stranger seemed to be wearing a helmet shaped like a carapace over his head, complete with wide mesh circles like bug eyes; at least, Sam assumed they were mesh. The man suddenly turned on him, and the last thing Sam remembered before blacking out was the two mandibles under the man's chin, and the tongue tipped with a stinger heading for his neck...

Dean was just about to give up the search when a head of blond hair against a tree caught his attention.

"Brooke!" He called, running toward her.

She looked up at the sound of her name, but when she saw Dean, she frowned in confusion.

"Do I know you?" She asked innocently.

Dean paused; her clothes were different, her voice was slightly different–but it had to be Brooke.

"Brooke, it's me, Dean Winchester." He squatted in front of her. "Why did you run off like that?"

She raised her hand to protect herself and began crawling away from him. "No, stop! Don't come any closer! Who are you? I don't know you!"

"Come on, Brooke," Dean stood and walked after her. "Don't give me that! We're trying to protect you-"

"_Stay away_!" She screamed, scrambling to her feet. She began running.

"Oh no you don't," muttered Dean, chasing after her. He caught her arm.

"Let me go! Help! He-_mmmph!_"

Dean covered her mouth as she began screaming.

"Listen, Brooke," he said sternly, "I don't know what's gotten into you, but I am not your enemy! I won't hurt you if you just stop this act. We can work together; you don't have to do this alone."

She stopped struggling, but when he let her go, she was trembling all over.

"I... d-d-don't know you!" She whispered, looking like she might cry.

Dean could not figure out what was wrong... Until he remembered the witch-creature she'd talked about, the Hexer-beast; maybe Brooke had been hexed. He'd have to be careful if that was the case.

He smiled at her in a friendly way. "Come on back to the car. We'll go pick up my brother and-"

"Brother?" Brooke repeated with a puzzled expression. Suddenly, her eyes widened in recognition. "Oh! Are you one of the brothers who were supposed to come find me?"

Dean blinked; did she seriously forget everything that had happened in the last few days? "Umm, yeah."

"Oh," Brooke pushed a lock of hair out of her face. "Well in that case, sorry for running." She giggled nervously. "Um, what did you say your name was?"

Dean fought back a groan; at least she wasn't scared of him anymore. "Dean," he answered.

"Okay," said Brooke. "Let's go, Dean."

* * *

Nick had been on his way down Oak Street when he got the call about a swarm of killer bees at the bus stop on 39th. Brooke was waiting for him at Laurelhurst Park, where he'd promised to meet her to explain about Grimms and Wesen-but he knew she would understand if he decided to help a victim first. He knew she could find her way back to the house, if need be. He switched on his lights and steered up Cesar Chavez.

By the time he reached the stop, the bees were gone, but their victim remained: a tall young man, probably mid-20's, face bloated with what Nick knew to be Mellifer poisoning. He felt the guy's pulse; still beating, so there was a chance to save him, if he acted fast. He hauled the man over to his patrol car, loaded him inside-along with his belongings-and called Juliette as he raced back to the house, lights and sirens blazing.

"What's up?"

"Juliette, are you at the spice shop?"

"Um, yeah, just getting ready to leave now; why?"

"Do you remember the ingredients Rosalee uses for a Mellifer bite?"

"Yes-oh, no! Nick, you didn't!"

"If I did, I wouldn't be talking to you right now. It's someone else. I want you to get the ingredients together and meet me back at the house."

"Okay."

* * *

Meanwhile, westward on Stark Street, Raven knew she was almost at her destination. Once she reached Grand, she knew where the bus stop was, and she could take the bus across the river and into the city. Maybe the Police Chief Royal would be of some help after all.

She passed by the paper store on Grand, and flinched as a swarm of bees zipped around her. There must have been something to attract them to the alley behind the building. Raven grimaced. When she turned her gaze forward again, a woman stood in the middle of the sidewalk. Raven's instincts kicked into high gear; something was wrong. The woman just stood there as Raven advanced cautiously, but there was no doubt in the girl's mind that the woman had no intention of letting her pass. She was wearing a name tag with a capital "A" matching the font on the paper store. Raven was close enough to read the name, PAMELA S., with GENERAL MANAGER etched underneath it. Still the woman stared at her, unblinking. Raven stared back. The woman woged into a Mellifer and back.

"Hmm," the woman mused coldly, "a Grimm."

Raven glared. "Aren't you scared of me?"

The woman's eyes switched from green to dead-black. "No, I don't think so."

Raven recoiled; since when had a Wesen been able to do that?

Now the woman advanced on her.

"I'm looking for a new vessel," the woman said casually, turning her black eyes on Raven. "I think you'll do nicely."

Raven screamed as the woman clamped fearsomely strong hands on her head and seemed to expire a thick black cloud from her eyes, nose, and mouth. The cloud consumed Raven's vision, and she blacked out.


	7. Chapter 7: Klaustreich Claws Strike

Dean stole careful glances at Brooke as they drove back to Cesar Chavez Boulevard. Outwardly, she looked great; she smiled more, her wounds from the last couple nights had healed... Hell, even the scars on her cheeks and neck were gone. He wondered what kind of makeup she wore to cover it up; then he wondered why she would feel compelled to cover those things up.

Brooke noticed him watching. "What?" She demanded.

"You really don't remember me, do you?" Dean asked.

Brooke grinned wryly. "Nope, I'm sorry; I've never met you before." She resumed staring out the window.

Dean let her answer hang for a bit before asking, "What was that you were saying earlier? About brothers sent to protect-"

"Stop!"

Dean slammed on the brake instinctively. Brooke was swinging her head back and forth, craning her neck to take in every face on the sidewalk.

"What the hell was that?" He asked.

Brooke was still searching. "I thought I saw somebody I knew."

"Was it Sam?" Dean leaned over and started looking, too.

"I don't know a Sam. Wait, I think-" Without any warning, she had the door open and slipped out while she was still speaking. By the time it registered in Dean's mind what she had done, she was gone.

"Dammit, Brooke! Get back here!" He yelled, but she was already off down the sidewalk.

Dean pulled the car into the next available spot and got out to follow her on foot. "Brooke!"

He caught up with her a few blocks later. He grabbed her arm, and she flinched as she had done before.

"Brooke," Dean said sternly. "You can't just run off like that. I'm supposed to be protecting you, remember?"

She squirmed in his grip. _"Let go of me!"_ She gave a desperate wrench, and her arm came free just in time for a rapidly-moving body to collide with Dean and shove him into an alley.

The attacker had Dean up against the wall before he could get a good look at its face. What stared back at him was more bobcat than human. It was one of those creature-monsters! Dean could only stare in disbelief as it spoke.

"Listen pal, there are two things I keep track of, and that's friends and enemies. Now, I once considered this girl a friend–you, on the other hand," he slammed Dean against the wall for emphasis, "I don't much care for! I don't know what you did to her to make her forget–"

Dean tried in vain to break the clawed grip. "Forget? What are you talking about you freak?" He spat in the bobcat's face."

The bobcat threw him down. "Who are you calling–"

Before he could finish, Dean twisted around and drove his fist into that furry face. The bobcat yowled in pain and lunged at Dean, who turned to draw him away-only to discover a sort of hybrid wolf-man barring his escape. They closed on him; the bobcat threw him to the ground and started punching him in the face.

"Run, Brooke!" Dean called between hits.

Brooke didn't run. She blinked at the two creatures. "Wait, Ollie?" She blinked at the wolf-man. The bobcat stopped punching Dean to look up at her, and she recognized him too. "Bergen?"

Even stranger than these creatures having normal-sounding names was the way they seemed to relax when she addressed them. Bergen ceased his assault, though he kept Dean pinned.

"Oh, you remember us now?" asked Ollie.

Dean glanced between the three people standing over him through bruised eyes. "You're kidding me; you know these guys?" He asked Brooke incredulously, fully aware that just the other day she completely freaked out when Bobcat had tried to talk to her; was this another result of the hex?

Brooke nodded. "Yeah, they're friends of mine." She looked between the two men, who had morphed back into humans again. "What are you doing here?"

Dean started wriggling again, and nearly made it out, but Bergen calmly trapped him in a headlock Dean couldn't break. "I thought you said they were dangerous!" He seethed at her.

Bergen chuckled as if Dean were a little boy, and not a full-grown man. "Where'd you pick up this loony, Bee?"

Brooke shrugged. "I think he's protecting me from someone who's trying to kill me." She smiled at Bergen, evidently more familiar with him than with Dean. "You can let him go now, Bergen."

Bergen released him, and Dean immediately placed himself between Brooke and the two men, massaging the back of his neck.

Bergen crossed his arms in front if his chest. "So do you know who is after you?" He asked Brooke.

Dean was determined to give them no quarter. Whoever had hexed her obviously wanted her sympathetic to these monsters, maybe to make her easier to kill. He answered for her. "Damn right she does, only it's not who, it's what! Brooke told me just yesterday that you Vesser creatures are all killers; you're not even human!"

Bergen frowned in confusion. "Vesser? Wait a minute..." He morphed into a bobcat again and noted Dean's reaction. "How do you know what we are? You're not Grimm!"

Dean wondered if Brooke's hex made it so all she saw was normal people. "You saw that, right?" He demanded of her. "These are dangerous creatures, Brooke!"

Brooke was giving him the same mystified expression the other two wore. "Hey, guys," she said to Bergen and Ollie, "would you give us a minute?" Bergen nodded and the two of them withdrew a short ways.

Brooke whirled on Dean. "Okay, Dean, what the heck is _wrong with you_?" she asked shortly.

Dean jerked back in surprise. "Me?" He cried. "You're the one who told me that what I was seeing is real!"

Brooke shook her head. "So you mentioned... But I only met you this morning."

"No way!" Dean shot back. "Two nights ago Sam and I saved you from those dragon people."

It was clear Brooke was rapidly losing patience with him; but why? "Dean, I met you when you practically kidnapped me at Laurelhurst this morning, I was never caught by any dragon people, and I don't even know who Sam is!" Her voice rose in pitch and intensity as she spoke.

Dean did his best to try and keep her calm. "Right, I get that," he said. "Brooke, I don't know how to tell you this, but... I think you're hexed!"

_"I am not hexed!"_ She screamed.

"Everything okay over there?" Bergen called.

Brooke sighed. "We're fine!" She called over her shoulder. "It's just a small misunderstanding that I am sure Dean and I can work through _later._" She enunciated her words and glared at him to emphasize her point. Turning back to Ollie and Bergen, she continued in a much calmer tone. "So, you guys came all the way up to Salem just to save me, too?"

Ollie shrugged. "Kind of; we came to warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Remember that Hexenbieste that you messed with a while back?" asked Bergen.

Dean remembered the name from an earlier conversation with Brooke-if that even had been the Brooke he thought he knew. "What the heck is a Hexen-beast?"

Brooke silenced him with her index finger. "Shush! I'll explain later. Yes, I do remember," she continued to Bergen. "It was the day you kicked me out, wasn't it, Berg?"

He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "That was your own fault and you know it!" He retorted.

Brooke laughed, but it was a different laugh than Dean remembered from before. "I know; I was just kidding. So anyway, what does this have to do with me?"

"She's after you."

Dean missed who they were talking about, but Brooke seemed to know Bergen's meaning. "Again? Why?"

Bergen shrugged. "Don't know, but word is she's coming to Portland with a whole posse."

"That's not all," Ollie cut in. "Tell her about the bees, Bergen."

Once again, Dean felt lost in the conversation. "Bees? What's so special about bees?" What sort of people would care about bees?

Ollie-an older man-turned on Dean. "Seen the news lately, boy?" He demanded gruffly, producing a paper from his back pocket. It was a news article clipped from The Oregonian.

Dean read the headline. "**Farm In Tillamook Found Swarmed By Bees**." He glanced back to Ollie and offered the paper back. "So?"

The short, grey-haired man shoved it back at him. "Read it, Sasquatch! Farmer and his entire family, dead! Their entire herd, dead!" He glared at Dean with a crazy red glint in his eye. "How big you think the swarm would have to be to do that?"

Dean was sure the man was a raving lunatic, but Brooke was examining the article with a sober expression. "Think it's Mellifers?" She asked Bergen.

Dean once again tried to enter this conversation though it was obvious no one was very eager to include him. "Melli-what?"

Bergen ignored him and answered Brooke, "It's gotta be. You watch yourself. They say a swarm has already been sighted in Portland." "Yep," Ollie added, taking the paper back and slipping it into his pocket. "Attacked this one guy over by the Joan of Arc statue on 39th Street."

"Joan of Arc..." Dean remembered the statue he'd seen just that morning. "That's where I told Sam I'd meet him and Brooke!"

Bergen regarded him dubiously. "Who's Sam?"

"Sam is my brother," Dean answered. "You say he was attacked by some kind of demonic bees?" Finally, something was starting to make sense!

Bergen shrugged. "Dunno; might be." He nodded at Brooke. "Your Grimm friend found him."

Brooke smiled with relief. "Oh good, that means he's safe."

Dean blinked. "Wait, what's a Grimm?" He distinctly recalled Brooke using that term earlier; weren't they servants or hit-men or something?

Brooke rolled her eyes. "I told you, I'll explain everything." She turned back to the two men. "Thanks for telling us, guys."

Ollie patted her on the shoulder. "You take care of yourself, Brooke."

Ollie and Bergen slipped out of the alley. Brooke waited a minute before nodding for Dean to follow her.

"Okay, let's go."

Dean followed her back to the car. "Where are we going?"

Brooke squinted at him. "I'm taking you back to where Sam is," she said.

Dean smirked. "I thought you didn't know him."

Brooke bobbed her head. "But I know the guy who saved his life. His fiancée has medical training, so she'd be able to treat the effects." She hopped in the front seat.

Dean climbed in and fired up the a Impala. "Okay, where is it?"

"Just drive; I'll tell you where to go."


	8. Chapter 8: What About Brooke?

Nick surveyed the second body that had sprawled on his couch in less than a week. This man was so tall he took up the entire length of it. Juliette kept his body covered by a blanket and damp cloths over his mouth and forehead. She came in behind him to change the cloths.

"How's the patient?" Nick asked. He had a plastic FBI badge and a license that gave his name as Jared Jenson, but Nick knew that was a fake name; he wondered if this guy had also been the "Spenser McGillicuddy" who had called the other day and gotten his address.

"The swelling is almost gone, but he hasn't woken up yet," Juliette answered him, taking the cloths back to the kitchen.

Trubel came downstairs. She eyed the tall, unconscious man dubiously.

"You think he has something to do with Brooke?" She asked, cautiously moving closer.

Nick shrugged. "I dunno; call her and we can find out."

"Call her?" Trubel repeated. "With what? She doesn't have a phone."

Nick frowned. "She's not upstairs?"

Trubel shook her head. "No, she's not home yet."

"Oh great!" Nick rolled his eyes. First, some creepy man asks him to be Brooke's protector till some kind of brothers show up, then she gets lost when he should have been with her—

He was distracted from his thoughts by a sudden flinch from the stranger. Trubel's hand was on his shoulder. The man peeled the cloths off his face and looked around the room, and at the two people watching him.

"Who the hell are you?" A third person joined the other two. "Where am I? What happened to me?" He fought to sit up, but his body felt weighed down by sandbags.

The third person, a redheaded woman, took him by the shoulders and eased him back down again. "Whoa, whoa, take it easy," she said. "You've just recovered from the mother of all bee-stings."

Sam vaguely recalled noticing the bees at the bus stop—but what had he been doing there? "Bee-sting? What?" He fought to sit up, but his head swam, and it seemed like the world spun around him. He only batted the air feebly, with his hands.

Nick pulled up a chair close to the sofa and smiled. "You don't have to be scared. We're friends here. We just saved your life. I'm Nick Burkhart, this is my fiancee, Juliette," he pointed to the redhead, "and our friend Trubel." He indicated the one with the dark pixie cut. "What is your name?"

"S-Sam; Sam Winchester." His tongue felt ungainly and seemed to fill his mouth. Dean! Where was Dean? Sam tried sitting up again, and this time, he at least just made it. "Please, I need to-"

A door clicked, and a voice called, "Nick? It's me!"

Sam blinked; the voice sounded oddly familiar, but where had he heard it?

Nick stood and walked into the kitchen. "Brooke! Thank God, I was beginning to-" he stopped as a tall, broad-shouldered man with hazel eyes walked in behind the girl. "Who's this?"

The man smiled and extended a hand. "Nick Burkhart?" He guessed. "Hi, I'm-"

"Dean?" Sam Winchester had somehow managed to heave his body from the couch and now leaned against the railing of the stairwell. Looking between them, Nick at last saw the family resemblance.

Dean strode to his brother, catching his shoulder with a relieved grin. "Sam!" He cried.

"Where did you go?" Sam demanded as Dean helped him back to the couch. "I waited there for hours and there was this swarm of bees that attacked me."

"I went to find Brooke," Dean explained, nodding toward the girl.

"Wait," said Juliette, "you know about Brooke?"

"Well, yeah," Dean answered slowly. "I mean, I think we do." He shrugged it off. "Meanwhile, we haven't officially met, even though Brooke's told me your names. I'm Dean Winchester."

"Juliette Silverton," she shook his proffered hand.

Dean nodded to the other girl. "You must be the one they call Trubel, then."

She nodded, "Yeah, that's me."

"Wait, Dean," Sam cut in. "Are you saying you found Brooke?"

Dean wondered fleetingly if the shy blond was as invisible to his brother as the creature people because of the hex. "She's standing right there, dude."

Sam looked at Brooke with the same expression she had given Dean at the park. "You're Brooke?" He asked.

"I'm Brooke," she answered.

Sam stared fixedly at her. "No," he said finally. "You're not Brooke."

"What are you talking about, Sam?" Dean demanded.

"That's not Brooke!" Sam was beginning to shake. "Brooke is—" he was having trouble speaking again. "She has—"

Juliette took that moment to say, "I'll get everyone something to drink."

She came back with beers for the guys and lemonade for the girls, and Nick decided that it was time to change the subject. He wanted to find out more about these brothers. He turned to Dean. "So where are you from?"

"Kansas," Dean answered.

Juliette took a sip of her lemonade. "What brings you to Portland?" She asked.

Neither brother seemed eager to answer. Nick recognized Dean's squint as a sure sign that he was trying to make something up.

Sam glanced at his brother before speaking, "Well, ah... We're kind of-"

"Oh!" Trubel cried. "You're the Winchester brothers, the demon hunters."

"_Demons_?" Nick almost spewed his beer.

"You've heard of us?" Sam asked incredulously.

Trubel shrugged. "Yeah, here and there; I'm originally from New York. I knew I heard the name somewhere, then I remembered this roadhouse in South Dakota I stopped at on my way west, some kinda Orville's or something, run by this old lady and her daughter-"

Nick and Juliette glanced at each other; why had they never thought to ask Trubel about her trip west?

Sam chuckled. "No way, you found Harvelle's?"

"Dude, you met Ellen?" Dean added with a shake if his head.

Trubel finished her lemonade and fiddled with the glass. "I wasn't really the friendly type at that point. I didn't meet anyone," she admitted.

Juliette huffed impatiently and raised her hand. "Excuse me, can we get back to the whole demon hunting thing?" She pointed to the brothers. "You're telling me there are demons in Portland, too? Implying that demons do in fact exist."

Dean nodded. "Oh they do, trust me, and they're every bit as freaky as your Vesters."

Everyone froze.

"Vesters?" Juliette repeated, puzzled at the name.

Brooke clapped a hand to her forehead. "_Wesen_, Dean."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Come again?"

"The term is Wesen."

"Whatever—"

"Hold it," Trubel squinted at Dean. "Are you Grimms, too?"

Dean shrugged, "What the hell is a Grimm?" he asked, with an edge of challenge in his voice.

"How would you know what a Wesen is?" queried Nick.

Dean nodded to Brooke, "She told us; that's what they're called, right? The creature-people?" He glanced at his brother, "Come on, Sammy, back me up here; remember that thing that attacked us the other night?"

Sam was just as confused as everyone else. "Oh, the one in the suit? Dean, it was just a man—a really super-strong guy."

Dean all but glared at him. "A _guy_?"

"Mostly..."

Dean turned to Brooke, "You were there; that thing was Wesen, right?"

Before Brooke could answer, Trubel muttered to Nick, "I thought only Grimms could see Wesen in woge."

Brooke sighed, "Apparently, Dean can too."

Everyone stared at him in surprise.

For the first time, Sam realized just how serious his brother was. He turned to Dean. "When were you going to tell me that you were seeing strange things? Is that why you were so freaked at the library and the burger place?"

Dean raised his hands defensively. "Dude, I had no idea where it came from, I thought I was cursed or hexed or something!"

Sam smirked and walked back to the front room to retrieve his computer. "You should have told me, man—I could have filled you in."

He opened his laptop to reveal that he had been doing research on Grimms, the Wesen world, and the strange goings-on around Portland.

"_I_ should have told _you_?" Dean snapped back. "Why didn't you speak up when Brooke was going on about the Wesen? I felt like a friggin' idiot!"

"Dean, check this out," said Sam, showing him the screen. "Apparently these things are a lot more widespread than they might seem."

Dean scanned the page. "Wait a minute," he cried, "_Grimm_? As in the brothers who wrote stories? You're trying to tell me the fairy tales are true?" His eyes darted accusingly at the faces around him.

"Well, considering the Winchester family business," Sam answered, taking his computer back, "it's actually not that big of a stretch. See, the Brothers Grimm wrote the fairy tales as sort of a cautionary official statement to alert people about these Wesen that they and their descendants-also known as Grimms-used to hunt and kill." When Dean continued staring at him, Sam admitted, "It's what I was going to tell you when those bees attacked me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Glad to see you're doing all right now, _Kenny_. So if Brooke is a Grimm, and she's friends with Wesen, how does that happen?"

Nick stepped forward to offer an answer. "I guess it happened when my ability was activated, after my aunt-the last of that generation of my family-died. She was the one who told me to hunt only the bad ones-not all Wesen are dangerous."

Dean pointed to him, "You're one of these descendants of the Brothers Grimm, too?"

"And me," Trubel added as Nick continued.

"When a Grimm dies, the next generation is activated. I went from normal to seeing these things everywhere. I didn't know whether I had suddenly snapped or maybe I was in some kind of alternate reality. There was nobody to explain it to me, at least not till I met Monroe, who's Wesen himself."

Dean grunted, "I know the feeling. So... I'm not a Grimm, why can I see these things?"

Nick shrugged. "I couldn't tell you that. Is there some kind of ability that lets you see demons?"

Dean shook his head. "The only ability we need is the ability to know what to look for and how to kill them."

"So your job is to find the demon that's here and kill it?" asked Juliette.

Sam nodded to her. "That's the plan, yeah."

"Well, that," Dean added, "and there's also the thing about Brooke's key."

Brooke flinched in surprise. "You know about my key?"

Dean frowned, "Well, yeah; you told us that you needed to find it."

"_Find it?_" Nick repeated. There was horror on his face as he asked Brooke, "You lost the key?"

"Did not!" Brooke snapped, reaching into her collar and pulling up the chain. "I have it right here!"

Sam and Dean glanced from each other to the ancient-looking brass pendant hanging around her neck.

"Where did you get that?" asked Sam.

Brooke let the pendant drop. "I've had it around my neck all this time," she said. "Everyone keeps talking about how dangerous it is."

Dean didn't like the way the mysteries seemed to pile up. "Brooke, I know for a fact you weren't wearing that the last time I saw you, this morning."

"This morning?" Juliette echoed. "Did you go somewhere after breakfast, Brooke?"

"No!" Brooke cried. "I never went anywhere till Nick called and told me to meet him at Laurelhurst!"

Sam nudged Dean. "Told ya it wasn't Brooke."

The blond turned on him, "I _am_ Brooke!"

"If you're Brooke," Dean challenged, "then I want you to clear up something for me: see, we came all the way from fricking Ohio to rescue a girl named Brooke, and we show up, find you about to be roasted by some danged dragon Wesen, never let you out of our sight, and the one time you give us the slip, all of a sudden you talk different, you act different, and you don't remember us?"

Brooke stared into his face, completely mystified—until she figured out the missing piece in all of this. "Oh! Well now it all makes complete sense!" She gasped. "I don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner!"

"Figure what out?" Nick asked.

Brooke nodded to the Winchesters. "Sam and Dean, the girl you met the other night and thought was me, was actually my twin sister, Raven."


	9. Chapter 9: First Blood

"Sister!" Dean exploded after a minute of shocked silence.

Brooke nodded, chewing her lip. "She's the one who got away from you, and you found me instead."

Sam smacked his forehead. "Holy crap, she told me that night that her sister had disappeared-I didn't know she meant her twin sister that had just been separated from her!" He shook his head.

Juliette frowned. "I don't get it," she said, "why would Raven pretend to be Brooke?"

The young brunette shrugged. "Well, she seemed to know the Hexenbieste better than I did; maybe it had something to do with that."

Nick glanced at her sharply. "What Hexenbieste?"

"The one from Salem; apparently she's now coming here with an army to find her—or maybe both of us."

Juliette tossed her hands in the air. "Oh great; there's a demon already here, and now there's a Hexenbieste ready for war?"

Sam held up a hand with a puzzled frown. "Back up, I'm confused; why would Raven want to pretend to be Brooke to get us to help her find the key if Brooke had it already?"

Brooke had pulled out the pendant and now fingered it. "Well, um, I never actually told her about it," she admitted.

"Why not?" asked Sam.

Brooke held up her hands defensively. "Hey! We only just met three days ago and she tried to kill me because she thought I was an assassin made to look like her, so forgive me for not quite trusting her." She rolled her eyes.

Nick, ever the detective, noticed a discrepancy in the day's timeline. "So if Raven was with you this morning, and then you lost Raven and found Brooke..." He looked from Brooke to the Winchesters, "Where is Raven?"

A resounding knock sounded on the front door, followed by a heavy thump that made everybody flinch. Nick was at the door in a moment. He opened it and the body that had tumbled against it rolled into the house. He could see the man's features woging from that of a Klaustreich to a fair-haired man in his mid-thirties.

"Bergen?" Brooke cried from behind him.

"You know this guy?" Nick asked. The man had been badly beaten, and was now bleeding on the front-hall rug.

Brooke fell to her knees beside him. "Bergen!" She called his name as Juliette mopped his face with a cool rag.

"Hey, that's the guy who jumped me in the alley this morning!" Dean cried.

"Here, get him out of the doorway," said Nick, going for the man's shoulders.

Bergen gave a small start and opened his eyes. He looked from Nick to Trubel.

"Two?" He murmured faintly. "But I thought—" his eyes fell on Brooke. "Hey, Bee," he grunted, then coughed, wincing painfully.

"Who did this to you?" She asked.

Bergen nodded and leaned forward, looking like he was going to stand. Juliette reached a warning hand to his shoulder, but he waved her off. "I'm fine, I'm—" he grimaced again as Nick and Dean helped him to his feet. "It looks worse than it is." He took the rag from Juliette and wiped the cuts on his face and arms. His shirt had torn in the back, revealing purple bruises and angry red welts. Bergen studied Nick closely.

"So, you're the Portland Grimm, huh?"

Nick nodded. "You've heard of me?"

Bergen snorted. "Heck, everybody's heard of you! A Grimm that doesn't kill you as soon as look at you? You have to admit it pretty much defies reason by our standards." He looked over at Dean. "You again? The _Sonder-Kehrseite_?"

"The name's Dean, all right?" snapped the hunter.

"So what do you want?" Nick intervened before the men could come to blows.

"What do I want?" Bergen blinked at him, squinting in confusion.

"How did you find this house?" Brooke asked, "and who beat you up so badly?"

"I'll tell you who," Bergen became so agitated at the memory that he woged, causing those who could see it to flinch, while Sam and Juliette only saw an emotionally charged man. "It was her! The Hexenbieste, Lady Serena!" He put a hand on Brooke's arm. "And that's not the worst: she took Donny and Zephyr!"

Brooke was just as mortified as if the man had told her Raven had been shot. "What?"

"Please!" Bergen looked around. "You have to help me, all of you. We have to get them back!"

"Why did she take them?" Brooke asked.

Bergen's mouth twitched. "I was barely conscious when she was talking, but she said something about teaching that Grimm twit a thing or two." He glared at Brooke. "This is the second time you've endangered my crew; you have to help me rescue them."

Brooke threw up her hands. "You think she's coming after me because of what I did in Salem?" She cried. "I'll bet Raven did something to her, and she's taking it out on me!"

Bergen tilted his head. "Who's Raven?"

Sam snorted as Brooke explained, "Apparently I have a twin sister who was in league with the Royals all this time. We only just met this last weekend."

"If the Hexenbieste is taking hostages, we don't have much time," Nick spoke up. "Were you able to find out where she would want to meet?"

Bergen instinctively drew back from the cop. "If I knew I wouldn't tell—"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Bergen!" Brooke burst out. "We are all here to help you! Tell us what we need to know, or you might never see Donny or Zephyr again!"

"I don't know!" Bergen cried. "She said something about a fortress on a hill overlooking the city—"

"The Pittock Mansion?" Juliette guessed.

"Grand, old, deserted, and isolated," Nick agreed. "Certainly fits within the scope of a power-hungry, egotistic Hexenbieste."

"How long does it take to get there?" Asked Brooke.

Nick shrugged. "Not long; why?"

"Because if she wants a Grimm, she'll be expecting a fight, and we have some recruits to train," she nodded to the Winchester brothers.

Dean looked offended. "Hey, we know how to fight!"

"I think we can figure out how to handle ourselves," added Sam.

Nick smirked. "Nothing like a little on-the-job training."

"Okay," said Trubel, swinging to her feet from the counter, "but if a Siegbarste bashes their heads or they get mauled by Lowen, I call dibs on the car."

"The heck you do!" Dean snapped with fire in his eyes.

"Trubel," Nick shot her a warning glare. "Why don't you show the brothers your notebook on our way out there. We'll stop by the trailer for supplies and be on our way."

Bergen followed, staring around him in amazement. "Three Grimms and three Kehrseite fighting together? This is just too incredible."

Sam leaned over to Juliette. "What is a care-site?"

"It just means 'other side,'" she whispered back. "It's what Wesen call the non-Wesen."

"Let's go, people!" Nick called over his shoulder as he marched out the door.

* * *

Within the hour, the group arrived on the grounds of the Pittock Mansion. Lights glowed in the windows.

Sam and Dean could feel the tension in the three Grimms as they reached the perimeter.

Trubel explained, "A Hexenbieste usually contracts hitmen and bodyguards from an elite school of killer Wesen called the Verrat. These are your wolverine types, the lions, the bears—"

"The whaddayacallems, the hound ones?" Dean guessed, remembering the one Brooke—no, Raven—had fought.

"Yeah, the Verrat are mostly Hundjaeger," Trubel nodded. "All of them can see better in the dark than the average human."

"Are you kidding?" Bergen hissed in front of her. "Everyone in this group smells so strong they probably don't even have to see us to know we're here!"

Dean shot Sam a look.

They crouched behind the low wall surrounding the property. Nick had his spare piece out and ready. Trubel slid a pair of Victorian-era revolvers into the brothers' hands.

"The bullets are laced with a powerful poison that could stop a Siegebarste," she said. "Should do plenty of damage as a normal bullet, too."

"What's a Siegebarste?" asked Sam, as he counted the insufficient number of bullets she handed him.

Trubel smirked as she primed a small crossbow and checked to make sure her machete slid easily out of it's sheath.

"A troll," she called over her shoulder.

"They're naturally impervious to a lot of things, and their skin is like rock," Brooke explained beside them. She flinched at something in the shadows.

Dean, Sam, and Brooke all grouped in a thicket, while Nick, Trubel, and Bergen circled around to the entrance. The large, dark figures of several Verrat could be seen flanking the high front door and posted against the sides of the house. To Sam, they just looked like normal, gruff men. Dean saw one of them lean forward and in the light of the lamps, he saw the man's face morph like the others' had, growing leaner and covered in fur. He'd seen something.

Dean glanced down at Brooke, who was clutching a pistol in both hands.

"Ready?" He murmured.

She took a quick, deep breath and nodded firmly.

Suddenly, a vicious shriek split the air, and a lanky, near-skeletal body dropped out of the trees and onto Sam.

Brooke screamed and Dean dragged her clear of the area as more bodies dropped where they had been standing. One turned and hissed at him viciously.

Crouched on the ground was the ugliest Wesen Dean had seen yet. It glared at him with mean, yellow eyes as its claws raked the soft dirt.

"Geiers!" Brooke cried, and Dean snapped into action. He pegged the Geier in the shoulder, and took aim at the one attacking Sam. A bullet in the head took care of that one, and Dean had to recover quickly as a third Geier landed on his back and scratched his arm as it reached for the gun. Dean smashed it in the face with his elbow, and Sam arrived to finish the creature. Once that was over, Sam noticed Brooke staring at the front lawn of the mansion.

The Hundjaeger were no longer guarding the door. Now they stood among dozens more Verrat, with Lady Serena at their head.

She laughed. "Well, that was a nice little prelude," she nodded to the dead Geiers, "but you're going to have to do better than that if you really want to defeat me!"

The crowd of Hundjaeger, Lowen, and a few other Wesen Dean hadn't seen before growled menacingly.

"Or," Serena continued, "you can hand over the Grimm." She pointed imperiously to Brooke.

Dean stepped protectively in front of her.

"She's not the one you want," he called back.

Nick joined him. "What if we don't?" He asked.

Lady Serena laughed and snapped her fingers. Nick and the others heard more footsteps and growling behind them, and knew they were trapped.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice," Serena purred. She turned to the Hundjaeger at her elbow. "Kill them," she ordered, "and bring me the Key." The beasts parted to let her pass—then all attention was focused on the knot of intruders at the center. Dean and Sam both had a hunting knife in one hand and a pistol in the other. They stood back to back with Trubel and Nick, armed respectively with a machete and a vicious-looking battle axe. Bergen had his claws and teeth bared, and Brooke brandished a machete and a gun.

With a howl of fury, a Hundjaeger lunged at them, and Sam drew first blood.

Then all hell broke loose.


End file.
